With You
by Spirit Lovelorn
Summary: One shot inspired by Ameko's Becoming. Squall loses the will to live after Rinoa is killed in battle. Rated for thematic material.


(This piece was written in conjunction to Raine of Winhill's 'Becoming.' This story deals with a serious issue, suicide, so if you are sensitive to this subject, or not able to handle the mention of blood, press the back button and find another story. You've been warned.)

With You

by Spirit Lovelorn

*

The air was heavy. Heavy with solemnity. The Quad was the place where dances were held, where students could socialize after classes, where the Garden Festival was held ... and the only place in the entire Garden other than the Cafeteria that was large enough for the entire student body to attend a funeral for one of their own.

Well, technically Rinoa Heartilly wasn't a Garden student, but nevertheless, the students at Balamb Garden had regarded her as one of them. The news of her death had struck grief upon many. But her death was harder on those who knew her.

And hardest on the one who loved her.

Squall Leonhart, the lion, the sorceress's knight, had lost his angel, his best friend, his lover, and his soulmate all at once. She had been taken from him in a cruel twist of fate by an antagonist's bullet a few days before in a mission that had gone horribly wrong. The memory of her laying before him, blood rushing out of her chest, was one he would never be able to forget, no matter how hard he would end up trying.

She was laying in a white casket in front of him. He couldn't bear to look at her in death. The color in her face and the peaceful look of slumber was the work of a funeral parlor. It wasn't the real her. The Rinoa he loved and wanted to spend his life with was gone ... forever.

He didn't think he could make it without her...

"Squall?"

The hand of Quistis Trepe had rested upon his right shoulder. His left hand reached up and placed itself upon the hand on his shoulder. His breath was suddenly caught in his throat, and he shook slightly, trying desperately not to lose control of himself.

"It's okay to cry, Squall."

"I know." His words were forced and quick. He bit his lip, harder than he intended, and the bitter, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

"You don't have to go through this alone."

That wasn't really what Quistis was worried about, Squall knew. Quistis was the recipient of Rinoa's power. She had become a sorceress in place of Rinoa, and she was scared. Quistis wasn't prepared to be thrust into this situation emotionally, and she needed someone to be there for her.

Especially now with their other friends suddenly afraid of her.

Zell Dincht, Selphie Tilmitt, and Irvine Kinneas entered the Quad, each one's expression somber. Other students began spilling through the Quad entrance, noisily chatting amongst themselves. Quistis took her seat next to Squall, and the other three sat in the row behind them.

  
  


Some time passed, though Squall wasn't exactly sure how much had passed, before the remaining persons who had known Rinoa arrived. One by one, Laguna Loire, Ellone, Zone, Watts (who had brought Angelo with him), and Cid and Edea Kramer made their way to the front seats. The last person to arrive was General Caraway, Rinoa's father. He looked like a wreck, distraught and frustrated, and the first thing he did was take his anger out on Squall.

"You son of a bitch!" he cursed, every word searing with hatred. "How can you dare to show your face here? You took my daughter from me, and now she's dead. This is all your fault!"

"General Caraway, please," Quistis said sharply. "This is most certainly not the time for irrational behavior. We are all deeply saddened by Rinoa's death, but that is no excuse to blame others who have done nothing wrong."

Caraway's eyes narrowed, then he mumbled something about an "unfit sorceress" and sat in his seat. Squall buried his face in his hands as a minister appeared at the podium to begin the service.

*

Squall's eyes snapped open, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. His face was white, making the scar on the bridge of his nose appear darker than usual. Beads of perspiration collected on his forehead and soaked his disheveled mahogany locks, plastering them against his skull. His breathing was quick and ragged, and he was shaking.

Nearly a month had passed since Rinoa's untimely death, but to Squall, time had stood still. Every night he was forced to relive her death in his dreams, watch her body become still as she passed her powers onto Quistis. He'd wake up every night, never able to return to sleep. He heaved a loud sigh and got out of bed.

The blue tiled floor was cold under his feet. He shivered, for he was only dressed in a pair of boxers and an undershirt. He wandered into the bathroom, deciding to get ready for the day, even though he had no real intention of leaving his room that day. He rarely left his room anymore. Nothing mattered anymore without Rinoa at his side.

Squall looked into the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall.

"Buddy, you look like crap," he said to himself.

It was true. Dark circles rested under Squall's eyes, both of which were bloodshot and sore. He was pale and his cheeks were sunken in. His chin was rough and stubbled after not shaving for a few days. He no longer had a well-toned look to his body. He just looked skinny and sick.

Out of the corner of his eye, Squall caught something glittering in the dim light of his bedroom. He slowly turned to see what it was.

His gunblade.

Squall had taken the silver blade out of its case earlier that day to clean it, but he had never returned it to its case. Suddenly bothered by the fact that he had left his treasured sword out on his desk, he went to put it away. He gently picked the weapon up, both hands wrapped tightly around the handle. He gave it a few swings, as he normally did when drawing his weapon, then crouched down and opened up the gunblade's case.

'Just end your pain.'

Squall's lower lip became caught between his teeth. Life was Hell now, he'd be the first to admit it ... but to end his own life?

'You saw your reflection. You're suffering.'

Squall once again picked up the gunblade. He ran his finger along its sharp edge until a streak of crimson stained the silver of the blade. Squall stared at his hand, watching the blood drip down slowly from the wound in his finger...

'There is nothing without her.'

Squall's hands began to shake. He dropped the sword, it falling to the floor with a loud metallic clang. He collapsed to the floor, and all of the pain, lock emotions, and inner torment of the past month came rushing back at him.

Squall rarely cried. He had spent many years training himself to keep a straight poker face, showing little emotion. Breaking down into a hysterical fit of sobbing was not a characteristic of his personality.

Then again, there's a first time for everything.

"Oh God," he hiccuped, his cries uncontrollable. His body shook with each choking sob. The tears flowed down his face in a continuous stream, and Squall believed that they would never stop.

How dare they take Rinoa away from him? How dare they take his happiness from him? Squall wasn't really sure who "they" actually were, but he didn't have a name for whatever it was he was blaming. Maybe Hyne, maybe fate, he didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't live without her.

'You can't live without her.'

"I can't live without her."

Squall's mind was made up. He got up on his feet, taking the gunblade in his hand once more. He twisted the glittering blade around in his hand until the point was aimed just below his chest. He squeezed his deep ocean blue eyes shut and pulled the weapon away from himself in order to give it momentum. His breathing became heavier, his heart began pounding. He hesitated.

'Think of her waiting on the other side. Go to her. Be with her.'

"Rinoa," he whispered.

He drove the gunblade deep into the skin just under his rib cage. He gasped, almost, but not entirely, surprised by the amount of pain he felt, and once again fell to the floor, which only intensified the pain as the weapon was driven deeper into his body. He coughed, choking on the blood already invading his lungs. Even more of the warm crimson liquid was forming a large puddle on the floor around him.

Squall laid there on his side, his eyes beginning to lose the spark that's always found in the eyes of the living. He coughed again, blood spattering on his lips.

He prayed silently in his final moments. Prayed that everyone would understand his reasons for ending his life. Prayed that everyone would not grieve for too long. Prayed that Quistis would learn to cope with the changes that had been thrust upon her. He took in one last wheezing breath and exhaled.

  
  


Squall Leonhart was dead.

The lion had rejoined his angel in the next world.

*****

It's true the way I feel

Was promised by your face

The sound of your voice

Painted on my memories

Even though you're not with me

I'm with you

~ With You, Linken Park


End file.
